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I just listened to six episodes straight of "Welcome to Night Vale" while repotting dozens of baby brassicas, and so when Cecil reported that the Apache Tracker smells of potting soil and sweat, so did I.
The temperature's still not absurdly high, and it's rather less damp today; we all know it's not the heat, it's the lingering despair at the utter futility of existence. But I think I've found a mission in life: insinuating into the internet's never-ending river of kittens and infant hedgehogs a streamlet of snapshots of seedling purple pak choi and Tuscan kale. Because they are adorable.
The temperature's still not absurdly high, and it's rather less damp today; we all know it's not the heat, it's the lingering despair at the utter futility of existence. But I think I've found a mission in life: insinuating into the internet's never-ending river of kittens and infant hedgehogs a streamlet of snapshots of seedling purple pak choi and Tuscan kale. Because they are adorable.
